


The Heart Grows Fonder

by SubtextEquals



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Goblet of Fire, Remus and Sirius finally reunite. While they pick up their relationship the world crumbles around them. But since when is that new?</p><p>A love story marked by tragedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Winter Wolfstar Wank with the prompt "Post-Azkaban."

Dumbledore had warned Remus to expect an old friend of his; what he hadn’t specified was when. So, Remus had tried to fall back into his old routine: searching for jobs, interviewing, dealing with the inevitable rejection that followed. Each time he set foot out of his house, though, he was afraid that he would miss Sirius’s return.

It would be the first time they’d see each other since that night over a year ago now. While they had exchanged letters, mended their friendship and their love, words had never been their chief method of communication. Though they had lost the awkwardness of those first few heated letters and fallen back into familiarity, it wasn’t the same.

That didn’t stop him from eagerly reading every letter, nor from running his fingers over the parting words that accompanied each one “Love, Padfoot.” And, if they were exchanging particularly lustful ones (something neither of them had expected to fall into as quickly as they did), it didn’t stop Remus from opening his trousers and slipping his hand inside his pants. In his fantasies the Sirius he pictured was never the ragged, haunted, and frail man he’d held in his arms last year but the man he’d known in his youth. The man he had loved. The man he still loved.

Soon he would have that man in his arms again but there would be no pretending that the years between them hadn’t happened. They were both older and worn beyond all imagining. Neither of them had expected the war to take so much from them. But, for twelve years, Remus hadn’t expected that life would return so much to him. He would never see James or Lily again. Peter was lost to them forever. But he had Sirius and somehow, they swore, that would be enough. Sirius had told him as much in his apologies. He promised he would never doubt him again and in return Remus had written that there was nothing to forgive, that he, too, had made mistakes—so many mistakes and for so much longer. He’d left his lover to Azkaban. He hadn’t fought at all when the Ministry took him.

It was in these thoughts that he lost himself whenever he left the house. He’d gone out for groceries and only woke from his reverie when he arrived at his home, rented with what remained of his money from Hogwarts. But when that was gone…

Remus’s mouth hardened. When that was gone he would miss being able to shop for groceries. Starvation was not unfamiliar to him. He’d been homeless before as well, forced to transform every month in the Ministry’s cells instead of locking himself in the basement since he could no longer afford the Wolfsbane potion. The future was grim, but when wasn’t it?

Fumbling with the keys, he dropped them to the floor. Cursing softly, he glanced around. No one was in sight, of course, he’d planned that when he’d chosen this location to live in. No one would hear the screams of the werewolf and if Sirius were to visit…

He never had though. Sirius had offered but Remus insisted that it was too risky for both of them. Sirius never brought it up again. Remus wished that he had.

Instead of stooping, Remus took out his want and whispered. “ _Alohomora._ ” Then he cast a quick summoning charm to grab the keys. The last full moon had been harder than he cared to admit, even to himself, and he didn’t dare bend to grab the keys. Just as he was about to cross the threshold an owl swooped in front of him and hooted once. Remus held out his hands and the bird unfurled its talons, dropping a letter into his outstretched hands. He hooted once again and puffed out his chest, evidently proud of the delivery. Remus reached into his pockets to pay, expecting that it was his duty to shoulder the burden this time, but the owl darted off. Evidently the messenger owl had been paid beforehand, and lucky for Remus. This wasn’t another job rejection then. It was always an insult to injury. Not only had he not been hired but he was expected to pay for the owl as well. Unprofessional, he couldn’t help but think, and then he wondered if they would have paid for the owl if he hadn’t been a werewolf. Then again, he probably would have been hired under those circumstances.

As he watched the bird fly off Remus guessed who had sent this owl. He preferred the colorful birds that Sirius had sent from the tropics. It warmed his heart to think of Sirius stretching out in the sun, tanning his pale skin in the light and simply relishing the heat after such a long stretch spent in the cold waste of Azkaban. Since his return to Hogwarts though, he’d only sent owls much like this one.

Remus quickly opened the letter. It was painfully short, clearly scribbled in a hurry and more cryptic than ever before.

_Friday 5pm and I’m all yours._

“Sirius,” Remus murmured. He traced the words with his fingers and resisted the urge to press the letter to his lips or else to inhale deeply, hoping for a hint of the scent that he’d missed for so long. “You always have been.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was Friday but 5pm had passed half an hour before. Remus had sat on his couch at first and he wished he could say he’d been calm but as the minutes crept ever closer to 5 his heart pounded even more. Now that the time had passed it was racing. He’d gone from staring at old photographs of the two of them to setting the album away. Now he was still on his feet and well on his way to wearing holes in the threadbare carpet. That was odd, some part of him couldn’t help but reflect. Sirius was always the one given to pacing. He’d had such exuberance, enthusiasm he’d been unable to confine and spread over to his lover. Years later here Remus was, walking frantically as though the energy that had rubbed off on him from his old lover still remained.

What if he’d been caught? What if the Dementors were sucking out his soul? What if they already had?

Remus stopped in his place. He shook and his stomach revolted at the thought. Sirius couldn’t be gone. The only man who’d ever loved him, his friend, his confidant, his… everything. They couldn’t lose each other now that they were on the cusp of reuniting. The world couldn’t lose its brightest star.

_He’s just late._ Remus tried to tell himself. Merlin knew how much distance the man had to cross and being stealthy while riding a hippogriff was challenging to overcome.

And then Remus was back where he started, worrying again.

_He escaped Azkaban. He can do anything. Once he makes it to the country he’ll be as good as safe. There’s a reason you chose such a remote location._

He always suspected that this would happen. Sirius wouldn’t be able to stay away for long. But then, it had taken Dumbledore’s orders to send him here. Doubts closed in on him again, this time different than his fears for Sirius’s soul. To combat them he took out the letter again.

_Friday 5pm and I’m all yours._

5pm had come and gone. Remus glanced at the clock. It was close to 5:45 by now.

“Damn it, Sirius. Where are you?”

He had just resolved to go outside and was in the process of reaching for the door when he heard the approaching footsteps from someone outside. Heart leaping to his throat, he threw open the door evidently just as Sirius had reached for the doorknob. He stood there, hand still outstretched for a moment before lowering it.

Sirius looked better than the last time they’d seen each other, both in person and a hurried conversation over the floo network when the escaped convict was staying in a wizarding family’s home while they were on vacation. His hair was somewhat longer but only a few inches below his ears. It was combed and neat instead of matted and straggly, though more than a little windblown from riding on a hippogriff. His face was full instead of thin and wan and there was more than a bit of color to his cheeks. But his grey eyes still held the taint of Azkaban within them. Yet there was more than a look of emptiness to them. Remus could see that he was both nervous and simultaneously relieved, not unlike how Remus himself felt.

The first words out of Remus’s mouth were not, on reflection, the first things he wanted to say. “You prat, it’s almost 6.” But before Sirius could take those words too much to heart, Remus pulled him into a fierce hug, one that rivaled the one that he’d given that night in the Shrieking Shack.

Unlike then, Sirius was ready for him and his arms quickly found their way around his back. They stood in the doorway, holding each other close for longer than was wise. Remus pressed his head to Sirius’s shoulder and breathed in his scent. A sharp inhalation close to his ear told him that Sirius was doing the same and the other man shook in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Remus. I’m…” Sirius’s voice trembled as much as his body and Remus held him closer to ground him.

“It’s all right.” He soothed. “Merlin, I missed you.” He pulled back and cupped Sirius’s face in his hand, drawing comfort from the warmth of his body and the feeling of skin against his palm. It had been so long since he’d had any touch at all, too long since he’d kept to himself. It was easier to withdraw after facing rejection after rejection and now… now he finally had Sirius.

_I’m all yours._

“I missed you too.” Sirius leaned into Remus’s touch and soon he was leaning into him. His lips were dangerously close, hovering scarcely an inch away from him.

It was too much and not enough all at once. And they were still on the threshold.

Remus pulled back. The instant he did he could have kicked himself because Sirius shrank in on himself, suddenly looking more and more like the runaway convict that he was, disappointed though with himself instead of Remus. Years ago he wouldn’t have been nearly as quick to heap the blame on himself.

“We should get inside.” Remus ran his hand through Sirius’s hair to reassure him. He might have kissed him if he were confident that he could restrict the meeting of their lips to something that was brief. After four years of being together along with thirteen years of separation he knew better than that.

“Right.” Sirius nodded. He reached up and grasped Remus’s wrist tightly, then brought the other man’s hand down to his lips before releasing him.

“Come on.” Remus’s hand settled around Sirius’s waist was he turned to grant his old friend and lover entrance.

“I tied Buckbeak out in the back.” Sirius said, not taking a step into the house.

Remus frowned. He should have been the one to think about that. Practicality had been, and still was, his specialty. Then again, he hadn’t spent a year on the run with the animal as his sole companion. It wasn’t too surprising that Sirius would remember him, or at least it wouldn’t have been if Remus didn’t remember the Sirius he had known so well in their younger years. That Sirius had been swept away by reunions with Remus after being separated for only a short time, always due to Order missions. They’d fallen into depravity so quickly and all thoughts of anything outside the walls of their home were forgotten. Not so now. He’d changed. They both had.

“We can bring him inside.” Remus said. “Not many people come by but in case they do I don’t like the idea of having to explain a magical creature in my back yard.” He tried to sound light as he spoke, as if their reunion didn’t have his heart hammering inside his chest.

“You can go on in.” Remus continued. “There’s some food in the kitchen if you’re hungry and—”

“Buckbeak knows me. I’d better go with you.”

There was a pause when Remus thought about arguing but he doubted that Sirius’s stubborn streak had changed any. It was easier to go along with him and easier still for Remus not to be parted from him.


	3. Chapter 3

In the end Remus was grateful that he’d given in. Buckbeak eyed Remus warily until Sirius put an arm around the man. Having established that Remus was a friend, Sirius didn’t need much to urge Buckbeak on. He flicked a wand he’d managed to procure somehow during his time on the run, and the ropes keeping Buckbeak grounded disappeared. After that he simply said a quiet “come” periodically whenever Buckbeak needed to be told and the Hippogriff followed. To anyone else it would have been a remarkable sight, seeing the high strung convict gently handling the potentially dangerous creature. But for Remus it was a welcome sign that his friend hadn’t changed as much as he feared. He caught himself smiling when he saw Sirius pat Buckbeak’s head and whisper something soothing when the creature hesitated at the doorstep.

When they were finally all inside Remus closed the door and locked it behind them. He held out his hand to Sirius, who quickly took it, and they passed into the living room while Buckbeak settled himself on the floor of the entranceway.

“I hope he won’t make too much of a mess.” Remus joked once they were out of earshot of the Hippogriff.

“If he does I’ll clean up after him.” Sirius smiled. That was a welcome sight after so many years living in darkness, deprived of Sirius’s light. But too quickly the smile faded. “I should tell you what’s going on.”

“I can guess.” Remus gestured to the couch he’d been sitting on half an hour earlier.

Sirius took his place in the same seat his lover had sat on and he rested his hands on the cushions, no doubt still warm. “All the same, you’ll want to sit down for this.”

Remus did and in several moments he was grateful for it. He knew from reading between the lines that Voldemort had returned, he’d known from the words Dumbledore had chosen and the fact that he was using Sirius to mobilize the Order from the old days. He knew that Cedric Diggory had been murdered, not killed in a questionable accident as they published in the papers. But he hadn’t known the details. He hadn’t known about Peter’s role or how close they had come to losing Harry. He had no way of guessing that the boy had come face to face with echoes of his parents, still determined to protect the son they’d given their lives for.

Remus pressed his hands to his face. He fought off the images Sirius’s story called to mind. He tried not to imagine James and Lily’s voice as they spoke to Harry. He tried not to think about Cedric, the boy who had been so bright, thoughtful, and caring, and how he had been murdered in cold blood. To say that he failed dismally would be an understatement.

But Remus was accustomed to composing himself. He’d had thirteen years of practice, far more than that really, and he soon pulled his hands away and straightened his back.

“What next?” He asked.

“Other than another war?” Sirius replied grimly. “We’re reorganizing the Order. I’ve contacted about a quarter of them—well, the ones that are still…”

Alive. Sane but not whole. None of them had escaped untouched.

“And I’ve done my bit of charity.” There was a bitter note to Sirius’s voice.   
“Gave my own contribution to the war effort. It’s about all I’m useful for anymore seeing as I can’t be Dumbledore’s errand boy for much longer.”

“Sirius—” Remus started gently, reaching for his friend’s hand.

Sirius shrugged but let him take his hand. “It’s all right. It gives me a chance to stretch my legs. I’ll miss it before long. You know my mum died while I was in Azkaban.”

“I know.” Remus said. He didn’t mention that he had been the one to tell Sirius that. Some things slipped the mind, he reasoned. Or perhaps Sirius hadn’t escaped without more scars than Remus feared.

“Well, I offered Dumbledore Grimmauld Place. My father went a bit mad toward the end before he…” Sirius paused for a moment.

He had never spoken much about his father’s suicide. He had barely seemed affected by it at the time, but then again he had still been in a state of depression from Regulus’s death, plunged so deep into despair that Remus marveled he had ever come out of it. So much of Sirius had been closed off then and even when he recovered so much remained a mystery behind cryptic looks, frequent sulks, and infrequent smiles.

“Offed himself.” Sirius said finally as if he didn’t care. And perhaps, Remus wondered, he didn’t. The familial bonds had never been strong between Sirius and his parents.

“He kept reinforcing the home. Erected all sorts of defenses. I thought it’d make for the perfect headquarters but I didn’t think…” Sirius frowned.

Remus squeezed his hand. He had the sense he knew what was coming but he waited for Sirius to say it.

“Dumbledore’s making me stay there.”

It was logical. Sirius couldn’t be out in the open forever. The Ministry could catch up with him and then the Dementors would suck out his soul. He would be lost forever, a death so much more permanent than Remus could wrap his mind around. And yet he couldn’t be relieved about this. To Sirius, 12 Grimmauld Place had been a prison of its own for 16 years. Remus had been worried when his friend had finally escaped that damn place but also felt freer. He was grateful that Sirius was out of there and that he would never have to go back again. He was sure that whatever he felt at the prospect of the man returning there paled in comparison to Sirius’s own feelings on the matter.

Sirius had talked about his life there so rarely. The closest he’d come to spilling his feelings (which hadn’t been close at all) was when Regulus had been murdered. And even then he’d restricted his reflections to the younger boy. He’d talked about how he used to chase him around the house and wrestle him to the floor or about one time before Hogwarts when he’d inadvertently used magic to make the boy’s face turn purple and break out.

He’d rarely spoken about his parents, even when his father died. The most Remus learned of Sirius’s mother was that she was perhaps certifiably insane. If it hadn’t been for the Howlers she had sent to Sirius was alarming regularity, Remus might have chalked up Sirius’s stories to exaggeration. But those Howlers had been disturbing enough that whenever Sirius received them a full three quarters of the Great Hall fell silent, while a full half of the Slytherin table poorly restrained their snickers.

And now, around two decades after leaving that place, Sirius had to return.

Remus’s response was automatic. “I’ll go with you.”

For a moment, Sirius froze. His body tensed and he looked at Remus with wide grey eyes. “You don’t have to.” He managed to speak quietly.

“Maybe not, but I want to.” Remus ran his hand over Sirius’s, then slowly up his arm. “You shouldn’t have to be there alone. And I don’t want to be…”

“Alone.” Sirius finished. He touched Remus’s cheek. “You won’t be, Remus. I promise you. I’ll still—”

“Hush, Sirius.” Remus said quickly. He’d heard these promises before. Each of them had been broken. He thought he was over the bitterness, the resentment, but Sirius’s words had only stirred old pains he’d tried so hard to bury. The only way to silence them was with a kiss.

Sirius tasted the same. There was even the faint taste of cigarettes as Remus pressed his tongue inside of the other man’s mouth. For a moment he idly wondered who he’d borrowed them from but then it didn’t matter because Sirius’s arms were around him and pulling him closer. Moving on instinct, Remus nudged him back onto the couch.

They didn’t fit as they used to. Both of them had lost weight, but Sirius especially so. The previously athletic youth had grown into a wasted man creeping steadily toward his forties. So much lost, so many years gone, but at least they had this moment.

“I love you.” Sirius whispered into Remus’s mouth when they parted for breath.

Remus could wrap himself in those words. He could lose himself completely, abandoning the outside world and everything that lay beyond the walls of his home, and he would never want for anything more. “I love you.” He whispered back. “Sirius…”

The first time they made love that night was desperate. Sirius clung to Remus so hard that his fingers left marks down his back. And everywhere his lips touched he left a small bruise in their wake. Remus had always had more practice restraining himself but this time he too was caught up in the moment. There were rows of bruises along Sirius’s neck, down his chest and around his hip. And while he would have liked to take Sirius, with his body as weak as it was he had to content himself with riding him. By the time they were done there were half moon circles in Remus’s hips from where Sirius had gripped him. They lay together for some time, panting and letting their heartbeats slowly return to normal.

The second time they made love it was slow. Remus had wiped away Sirius’s tears with his hands and kissed the remaining dampness from his face. Sirius did the same to him. When Remus smoothed back Sirius’s dark hair the other man claimed his lips. The werewolf surrendered himself to the kiss as he surrendered his body again when Sirius wrapped his hand around Remus’s cock and stroked him. They came shuddering in each other’s hands, together as they were always meant to be, with their names on each other’s lips.

Sirius fell asleep first. In the moonlight that shone through the window, Remus could clearly see the lines that marked his face. He saw how hollow the man’s cheeks were and the sunken appearance of his eyes. He saw how beautiful he looked after all these years.

Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’s shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me.” He whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a grey morning when they arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place. They were scouting out the place first. Buckbeak had remained at Remus’s home. Sirius wanted Remus to stay as well but he wouldn’t hear about it. It didn’t matter that he was a werewolf or that Sirius’s father’s spell could rebound, he was not letting Sirius waltz into London alone. And he had to waltz because he couldn’t very well transform from a dog to a human on the steps of 12 Grimmauld Place in front of all those Muggles. They would simply have to trust that after a few weeks worth of decent meals (as opposed to rats), Sirius looked different enough that he wasn’t easily recognizable.

Sirius discreetly took out his wand and tapped the door. As the rightful owner of the place, and the last surviving member of the Black family line, he didn’t expect any problems but one never knew. But the door opened without complaint, aside from a loud creaking noise that made both of them jump.

Sirius laughed and Remus removed his hand from Sirius’s shoulder. He hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed him, simply acted on instinct.

“Ready?” Sirius asked.

“We’d better hurry.” Remus cast a glance at the area around them. No one was staring at them yet but that was no guarantee Sirius hadn’t been recognized.

“Right.” Sirius steeled himself. “Let’s get this over with.”

He grabbed Remus’s hand before stepping into the house. Remus wasn’t sure if it was an attempt to shield Remus from any negative spells or if it was for emotional support.

“Lumos.” He said as soon as they crossed the threshold. The spell cast light over the dark, abandoned home. There were cobwebs all along the walls of the hall and their feet tread through a thick layer of dust.

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked.

“Fine. I—” The world was beginning to spin and Remus lurched. “A little dizzy I—”

Sirius quickly wrapped his arm around Remus to support him. He looked down the hall further into the house, took a deep breath, and proclaimed loudly. “I am Sirius Black, the scion and last living heir of the Black family. This is my home and I have brought this man here.”

The dizziness abated and Remus was able to take a deep breath. “Thank you.” He mumbled as he straightened himself.

“You’re welcome.” Sirius smiled faintly but there was no warmth behind it. “We’ll have to do something about that before—”

“BLOOD TRAITOR! FILTH!” A sharp voice wailed from down the hall.

There was just enough light for Remus to see Sirius’s face turn white.

“ _You._ ”

Remus hadn’t heard more venom in Sirius’s voice since they confronted Peter in the Shrieking Shack a year ago. The werewolf peered further down the hall and saw a stooped house elf moving toward them with surprising speed. He was shaking his finger at them, or rather at Sirius.

“How dare you return here! You, who broke my mistress’s heart!”

Beyond the darkened hall, other cries lit up, wrenching screams that sounded like the dead wakening. Remus raised his wand.

“The portraits.” Sirius muttered, never taking his eyes off of the house elf. “My mother didn’t have a heart to break, Kreacher. And if she did she never cared enough about me to give a damn whatever I did.”

“Get out of here!” Kreacher shrieked. “You have no place!”

Sirius stood taller than he had since arriving at Remus’s door yesterday evening. For a second Remus could see clearly the young man he’d known years ago. He recognized the determined set of his jaw and the way his eyes blazed with fury.

“I have every right!” Sirius snapped.

“She cast you out! Wiped you from the tapestry and—”

“BE QUIET!”

Kreacher fell silent immediately. A damning response from someone who had protested so much about how Sirius had no place here.

Sirius smirked in response. “I thought so. I’m your master now.”

“Sirius—” Remus started.

“It’s the only way. We need him to disarm certain defenses and if we set him free now it would break him.”

The moment Sirius said the word “free” Kreacher fell on all fours, shaking. “Master, no. Please. I’ve served your family all my life. My mistress…”

“Is dead.” Sirius said coldly and Remus did not like the tone in his voice at all. “But you may stay.” He continued. Still grasping Remus’s hand, he gave it a short squeeze and looked back at him. “Now let’s see if we can shut up those portraits.”

After much sniveling and sobbing, Kreacher lead them back into the main room. The first sight that greeted them was unmistakably Walburga Black, Sirius’s mother. The portrait must have been made after the loss of her family because she looked shriveled beyond belief, more of a hag than a human. Her pale skin stretched across her face but there was a dangerous light to her eyes as she saw the firstborn son of the woman she was based on.

“YOU!” She shrieked.

“Me.” Sirius said quietly and Remus only knew he was shaking because he was still holding his hand. Remus grasped his arm with his other hand.

“LEAVE THIS PLACE AT ONCE! YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE YOU BLOOD TRAITOR! YOU MADE IT AND LEFT YOUR TRUE HOME AND FAMILY! FILTH! SHAME OF MY FLESH! YOU—”

“SHUT UP!” Sirius roared. He tore free from Remus’s grasp and took hold of the curtains around his mother’s portrait. With a strength Remus didn’t know he had the man closed one curtain and set to work on the other.

Neither of them were finished screaming at the other. While Mrs. Black spewed the most bigoted bile that Remus had heard in some time Sirius screamed expletives, cursing his mother, calling her a bitch and a whore and all matters of things that made Kreacher burst into tears and curse Sirius’s name.

And the whole time Remus stood frozen until Sirius managed to finally close both curtains. He didn’t let go of the curtains and held onto them as he struggled to remained standing. A sob escaped his throat and Remus found he could move again. Quickly crossing over to him he wrapped his arms around Sirius’s waist and pulled him back against himself.

“It’s all right, Sirius. It’s all right. I’m here. I love you.” He whispered and his soft voice stood in stark contrast to Kreacher’s wails and those of the portraits.

Sirius’s choked sobs shook his body. They stood standing there, Remus quietly reassuring his lover. It was some time before they were both calm enough to silence the rest of the portraits or deal with Kreacher.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of domestic abuse in this chapter.

Sirius and Remus knew that they would have a great deal to do when they got to Grimmauld Place but they thought it would be primarily dealing with ensuring that “half breeds” and “mudbloods,” as the portrait of Sirius’s mother loved to scream out, would be safe. They hadn’t anticipated needing to spend time and energy making it _habitable_. It wasn’t just the dust. It was the dead puffskeins, apparently the result of multiple couplings from two that Regulus kept as pets. It was the doxies that infested the library, the den, and God knew how many other rooms. It was the various infestations one would expect in a wizarding household. And making matters more complicated were the various curses laid on the different objects and rooms. More than once Remus had to run to the bathroom and violently expel what was left of the contents of his stomach.

After the third time that happened Sirius insisted on a break. Rubbing Remus’s back, he guided him to climb the stairs, having previously determined that they were safe. He quietly urged him on, promising that his lover would be able to see his childhood room. That piqued Remus’s interest and his steps grew surer as he followed Sirius.

“I don’t know what it’ll look like.” Sirius said as they walked. “I put up permanent sticking charms but for all I know my mom found a way around them. She might have ripped apart all the furniture or burned the place.”

“She wouldn’t have risked setting fire to the house.” Remus commented.

Sirius smiled wryly at him. “Have you seen the portrait? She wasn’t in her right mind by the time she finally kicked the bucket.”

_She was never in her right mind,_ Remus thought.

They finally reached the top floor. There were two doors there. One led to Regulus’s room and Remus noticed how Sirius stiffened as he glanced at it. But the other, the other was Sirius’s room. This was the place he’d retreated to during his long summers. It had been his refuge and Remus found his curiosity heightening as Sirius’s hand closed around the doorknob, turned, and opened it.

The first thing that struck him was the large four poster bed in the middle of the room. Next came the colors on the walls where banners of scarlet and gold hung, draped over every inch of the wallpaper.

Sirius let out a breath as he stepped inside. “It’s just as I left it.” He turned around, taking in the surroundings, and then he did something that made Remus start in surprise. He let out that old familiar bark of a laugh.

Remus didn’t understand what was so funny, at least not until he followed Sirius and turned around. Then he started laughing as well, so hard, in fact, that he nearly doubled over. Sirius slung his arm around him and let out a bunch of undignified noises, some snorts and some giggles and together they surveyed the walls Sirius’s room.

The posters of the motorcycles were not surprising in the least. What was truly amusing were the posters of the half naked Muggle women, some clad only in bikinis, each of them staring back at them with a pout fixed on their expression. Or at least it looked like a pout, Remus was sure that it was supposed to look sexy.

“Oh, Padfoot.” Remus laughed and leaned into his lover. “Sixteen?”

“Sixteen.” He agreed. “And so deep in the closet I couldn’t even see straight.”

“I can’t believe your mother left these up.” Remus said and immediately regretted it but Sirius remained relaxed in his arms.

“Ah, I put up a permanent sticking charm as soon as I got them on. You should have seen her face. Oh God, it was worth the beating I got—” Sirius stopped suddenly and only then did Remus realize how every muscle in his own body had gone rigid.

“Remus…” Sirius said softly.

“You never told us.” Remus’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“I never wanted to.” Sirius’s arm tightened around Remus’s shoulder. “I don’t want to think about it, Remus. I’ve thought about it for too long already.”

But Remus knew he wouldn’t have much of a choice if he stayed in this house. All ready Sirius was confronting the demons he’d fled from years ago and, for all his bravado as they cleaned the house and took stock of it, Remus could tell that all ready they were consuming him.

“Please don’t look at me like that.” Sirius said quietly, turning away.

Remus did too and he stared at the posters once more but this time the humor escaped him. He couldn’t help but imagine a much younger Sirius than the one holding him putting up those posters and receiving a harsh beating for it. He pictured Sirius retreating to the bed and somehow before his mind’s eyes Sirius looked younger. He turned into a tiny child, smaller than the one he’d known at Hogwarts. And in his imagination the young boy drew his legs up to his chest and sobbed.

“It’s not pity, Sirius.” He said softly.

“I don’t care what it is. I don’t want to see it.”

Remus stroked through Sirius’s long hair and pressed a kiss to his temple. Sirius moved as if to shrug Remus away and the werewolf leaned back.

Some ghosts Sirius had to face on his own.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been months since they moved into Grimmauld Place. Whatever ghosts Sirius was facing he was losing the battle. That much was clear in the smell of alcohol on his breath whenever Remus came near. Every time he went away on another mission for the Order the scent got worse and Sirius’s appearance looked more ragged. Instead of putting on weight he was slowly wasting away. His hair was growing out but instead of keeping it brushed and glossy the way he had when they were young it was dull and straggly. He rarely bothered to shave anymore, only when Remus returned and commented on it. And those returns were happening less and less frequently.

Remus pleaded with Dumbledore. He recognized how important it was to forge ties with the outside world but even he could see that the werewolves who lived in the underground were a lost cause. Unfortunately, Albus didn’t see it that way. Just like he didn’t see how Sirius was steadily deteriorating. It was clearer every time Remus came back. There was more of a haunted look to his eyes, his words were more slurred than ever, and sometimes when they kissed the taste of alcohol nearly made him gag.

For that reason, Remus was not expecting much of a welcome when he made his way back to the house he shared with his lover. A house but not a home.

Perhaps he should have known better. After all, he did give Sirius a few days advance notice. He’d managed to send him a message through his Patronus. A quick “I’ll be back soon.” But soon had turned into days and he expected that by now Sirius had once again fallen into the listless depression that was now all too familiar and one he treated with a bottle or half a dozen of firewhiskey.

Remus tread lightly into the house and he heard the approach of rapid footfalls coming his way. Looking up the stairs, his eyes widened in shock as Sirius came into view. Strange as it was considering how long he’d clung to his memories, first grudgingly and shamefully then tenderly for over a dozen years, Remus had almost forgotten what it was like to come home to a lover who didn’t look as haunted as he no doubt felt. But now Sirius was freshly shaven. He’d even trimmed and brushed his hair and there was a light to his eyes as he headed down the stairs with far more spring to his step than was usual.

“I was starting to think you’d never come.” Sirius smiled as he spoke and, in spite of the jab, Remus found himself returning it.

“That’s never a worry with the two of us.” Remus responded lightly, relishing the bark of a laugh that earned him.

Sirius was so rarely in a good mood. He wasn’t sure what he had to thank for it now. A not insignificant part of him hoped that it was from the promise of his arrival but that might place too much importance on himself. Besides, wasn’t it better to think of this as an internal change? But Remus knew better than to hope that the newfound lightness in Sirius’s voice to be permanent.

They met somewhere along the first dozen or so steps of the stairs. Remus had to step back to make room for Sirius on the same step and soon he had to grasp the banister for support because his lover had practically thrown himself at him. His hands dug into Remus’s shirt and he pulled hard at the fabric. Remus might have told him to ease up before he ripped a new hole in his clothes. He might have if his mouth weren’t otherwise occupied, Sirius having claimed it with such intensity it was almost violent. In the wake of that, Remus could do little more than moan, wrap his arm around his lover, and enjoy the moment.

He was soon enjoying far more than that as Sirius pressed against him, backing him up against the banister. Remus was glad he was still steadying himself with his hand as otherwise he might have toppled over, taking Sirius with him. Unsurprisingly, the other man didn’t seem to notice the near miss. He was too intent in his attempt to meld their bodies together. His hips ground against Remus’s.

“Missed me?” Remus gasped when their lips parted.

“Always.” Sirius reached between their bodies, grunting as he shifted away from Remus enough to get his hands around the zipper of Remus’s trouser.

Remus groaned. “Not here.”

“Why not?”

There was a fire in Sirius’s eyes the Remus so seldom saw anymore. More than need, this was mischievousness, a certain delight in the knowledge that he was doing something so very, very wrong. It reminded Remus of back when they were at school, about to pull off another prank or else when Sirius coaxed him into making love somewhere outside of their dorm. Suddenly, Remus was loath to do anything to extinguish that light but there were still practical concerns.

“The portraits.” He gasped as Sirius’s mouth latched onto his neck and he sucked hard enough to leave a patch of red skin that would surely develop into a mark. “Kreacher.”

“We’ll just be quiet. And Kreacher knows enough to keep out of sight.” Sirius undid Remus’s trousers with an ease that was no longer surprising.

“Right here on the stairs?”

“Mmm,” Sirius slid his palm along the underside of Remus’s arousal. “I’ll take you anywhere, Moony.” And just as suddenly the hand around the werewolf’s cock withdrew, leaving Remus shivering with longing.

Sirius smiled at Remus. “But maybe we better do it at the bottom.”

Not giving himself time to second guess what they were about to do, Remus took Sirius’s hand and fairly dragged him down the steps. When they reached the bottom they set to work peeling off each other’s clothes. It was only then that Remus realized.

“You tore my shirt.”

“I’ll get you a new one.” Sirius said, discarding the item of clothing in question and running his hand down Remus’s bare chest. His fingers traced over scars both new (to him) and old though he took special care with the ones that had been previously unfamiliar before their reunion.

“You’ve been wanting to get me a new one since you showed up at my door.” As Remus spoke he tackled Sirius’s trousers, pulling them down but pausing before he dealt with the man’s pants.

Sirius took advantage of the pause. He stepped out of his trouser and kicked them aside. His hands had wrapped around Remus’s shoulders to steady him and his hands moved to the back of his lover’s neck, slowly stroking down his nape.

“I’ve been wanting to get you out of your clothes since you showed up at my door.” He teased. “That was just a bonus.”

“You know I hate it when you buy me things.” Remus breathed as Sirius’s lips drifted closer.

“And you know I love to spoil you.”

Sirius kissed Remus’s lips, pulling him against his naked chest. Their limbs tangled and they almost overbalanced and fell but Sirius steadied them. Once they were balanced again, he reached down and removed the rest of Remus’s clothes, taking his cock in hand once it came free of his pants. Remus shook in response and he reciprocated his lover’s actions.

Sirius pulled away from Remus and breathed a soft curse as he sighed. “Remus…” He brushed his lips against Remus’s once more before he turned to whisper in the man’s ear. “Take me.”

Remus was glad that Sirius couldn’t see his reaction, the way his lips parted to form a fleeting “o” before he closed his mouth. “Are you up for it?”

“Yes.”

Remus knew that he very well could be lying. Once Sirius had his mind on something he very rarely listened to reason, even if it was for his own good.

“I need you inside me.” Sirius murmured. “It’s been too long. I’ve forgotten what it’s like. I’ve forgotten so many things. I want to remember…” He spoke, quietly pleaded with Remus and that resolved the issue.

Remus gave Sirius one last kiss before moving away from him. He knelt and searched for his discarded trousers, eventually coming up with his wand (and really, he should have taken that out before they lost their clothes but even in their thirties they apparently lacked common sense).

“Accio lube.”

It took several long moments, moments in which Sirius was determined to find Remus’s lips again. As he heard the sound of the lubricant flying through the air, Remus pulled away from Sirius and only caught it just in time before it smacked into his head.

“Good timing.”

“On your knees.” Remus said.

“On my back.” Sirius smiled. “I want to see you.”

Remus didn’t bother to point out how uncomfortable that would be. Sirius was well aware of that, he was sure, just as he was aware of the punishment that his body could take. He only hoped they didn’t regret this when they were through.

 _Never,_ Remus thought as Sirius spread himself out on the floor. Remus kept eye contact with Sirius as he slid a slicked finger inside of the man. He felt Sirius clench around him.

“Relax.” Remus whispered. “It passes.”

“I know.” Sirius said. “I remember that much.”

It hurt to think that there was so much Sirius didn’t remember. They had made love so many times and even when Remus thought that Sirius had betrayed them he had still clung to those moments though he hated himself for it. Sirius didn’t have those memories to cling to. He had nothing but sorrow and pain for eleven long years, and then nothing but a thirst for vengeance for one. Now though they had this.

Remus’s eyes drifted over Sirius’s body as he prepared him. The sight had stopped breaking his heart months ago and he’d adjusted, grown to appreciate the strength hidden in a seemingly weak body. Because Sirius hadn’t fallen apart. He had survived. Despite the ribs that Remus could count so clearly on his chest, in spite of how frail he appeared, Sirius had survived and returned to Remus. And that was beautiful.

“Not much to look at.” Sirius muttered.

“Yes, you are.” Remus assured him, slipping another finger into him, and finding his lover’s cock with his other hand. “Yes, you are.” He repeated.

Sirius smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, at least not at first. As the man’s eyes passed over Remus the curve of his lips widened and became genuine.

“And you’re still perfect.” He said softly.

Coming from anyone else, the words would have been so patently ridiculous that Remus would laugh. From Sirius, though… even if he struggled to believe him, and he always had whenever he said that, he could not doubt his sincerity. Even if the words weren’t true he _meant_ them. Perhaps now he was finally beginning to understand.

“I love you.” Remus said as he stroked Sirius harder and the other man could do little more than arch his head back and moan his response.

“Love—God, I love you. Remus…” He said finally.

Remus knew he should take his time with Sirius’s arousal in his hand. He should draw it out and make Sirius beg as he had before but their time apart had worn on him too.

“Try not to scream.” He only partly joked as he sped his pace, running his hand over Sirius’s cock.

Soon Sirius had to take Remus’s advice to heart. He bit down on his lip but that did little to stifle his groans. How they didn’t wake the household, Remus didn’t know but just as Remus felt Sirius coming undone around him the other man raised his head.

“Wait. Stop, Remus. I want to—to—”

But Remus didn’t stop and he watched as Sirius’s climax overtook him, as his mouth parted and his body shook. He spilled into Remus’s hand and his body shook in the aftermath. The sight sent a jolt of pleasure through Remus’s cock, finally stirring again after having been neglected for all this time.

Remus ran his finger down Sirius’s shaft one more time before letting him go and touching himself, quickly bringing himself to a full erection so he could take Sirius, who lay still shaking in the aftermath of his orgasm.

“I wanted to come with you.” Sirius whispered.

“You can come again after.” Remus said. “I’ll take you in my mouth.”

“Ohhh, promise?” Sirius thrust back into Remus’s fingers, still working him steadily.

“Promise.” Never mind that they weren’t young anymore and it could take more time than that for Sirius to regain his arousal. Remus was determined that he wouldn’t let Sirius down in this. After weeks spent apart he wanted to taste him.

Finally, Remus withdrew his fingers. “Now?”

“Yes.” Sirius moaned.

Positioning himself outside of Sirius, he glanced up at his lover and found him staring down at where their bodies were about to join.

“I’ll make you remember.” Remus promised and then he entered him.

Sirius stiffened around him and Remus leaned over him, wrapping his arms around him and soothing him with his hands.

“Relax.”

“Trying.”

“Think of what comes next.” Remus urged. “Think of what it will feel like when I’m thrusting into you.” He paused. “Can you remember?”

Sirius didn’t respond and so the silence didn’t stretch out between them, Remus moved over him and kissed him. Perhaps that distraction was all he needed as soon Sirius relaxed around him. Slowly, Remus drew back and thrust into him again. Sirius whimpered and his fingers dug into Remus’s back.

“Hurts?”

“Yes—no—not really. It feels. God, Remus, just keep going.” He moaned.

And Remus did. Slowly building, just like the pleasure rising inside of him, Remus gently thrust at first. It didn’t take much to remind him that Sirius could not take very much of this, certainly not as much as he could take fourteen years ago. After all, Sirius’s thin body was pressed up against Remus’s. But he didn’t break him, instead Sirius urged him on with his voice and his body. Meeting him thrust for thrust and soon Remus was driving into him. In time they were both gasping for breath as they held back screams.

The heat came rising inside of Remus. Rushing over him, overflowing from Sirius’s body into his own, and soon he was losing himself to it. Losing that fine control he’d always clung to except in these moments of love and desire. And then he was gone entirely, spilling inside of Sirius as he bit back a cry.

“Sirius…” Remus sighed as he collapsed over him.

Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’s cheeks, and then his lips. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

It took several moments for Remus to realize just why he was thanking him. When he did he caught Sirius’s lips with his own.

“You remember?” He asked.

“So much.” Sirius laughed. “I didn’t realize how much I missed this.”

“Always so eager.” Remus teased. He gave him another parting kiss before sliding down his body. “Now, I believe I promised something…”

Sirius arched his brows as he stared down at Remus. “Slight problem there, Moony.”

That was true. Sirius wasn’t hard yet but Remus’s tongue slipped out and ran over his cock, sending Sirius gasping.

“No problem at all.” Remus replied before setting to work.


	7. Chapter 7

Remus didn’t trust Kreacher with preparing meals. As such, and since Sirius didn’t seem to be in the mood, Remus went down to the kitchen to make lunch. When he was done he ascended the steps to Sirius’s rooms. His muscles protested with every step. The last full moon had not been easy on him and even a week after the fact he was still sore. It would have been easier if Snape still made him the Wolfsbane potion, and perhaps easier still if he weren’t forced to spend his full moons in the company of other werewolves. What he would give to spend the night with his lover the way they used to do. Padfoot always had a calming effect on him.

Still, there was nothing he could do about it. Dumbledore had made his plans clear and Remus trusted him. He wished that Sirius hadn’t taken it as hard as he did. Some days he couldn’t be sure what was driving Sirius further away from him, the ghosts that still haunted these halls, whispering to him about his past, or the ghosts that lingered between Sirius and Remus. They tried to talk more lately but Sirius would suddenly lapse into silence and all Remus could do was take his hand to reassure him. Remus got the sense that it didn’t do much good but perhaps he was mistaken. His touch soothed Sirius at other times, after all.

At night they would lie awake, curled around each other, waiting for sleep to take them. It didn’t, though and neither of them was in the mood to wear each other out with carnal pleasures. Sex was still common, at least for men their age and in their condition, but more and more they took what joy they had in closeness. This was their newfound intimacy. And when Sirius did finally sleep, when he almost inevitably woke shaking and near tears, Remus was there to hold him closer and soothe him.

Remus was still tired from last night, which had been worse than most. Usually Sirius was the one with the nightmares but this time Remus had been haunted. In his dreams he confronted a man with gleaming yellow eyes and before he could cast a hex the man transformed into a werewolf. Remus had transformed too, but to a young boy, and all he could do was scream as the werewolf lunged. It had been a recurring dream ever since he was young and he could only assume it had to do with the night he was bitten, a night he couldn’t remember. Ever since he’d been sent away to deal with the werewolves the dream had come more and more frequently.

This time it was Sirius who held Remus tighter. He whispered words of comfort in his ear and let him rest his head upon his shoulder. Remus had shook but soon drifted back into a restless slumber.

Maybe that was why he drifted off now as he walked, lost in nothingness until he finally found himself outside Sirius’s door. As usual, it was closed. Remus assumed it was force of habit from all the years Sirius had locked himself inside. Either that or he was doing everything he could to avoid Kreacher despite the fact that the house elf only came up here infrequently, always to Regulus’s room and always when Sirius was downstairs. Even in his old age Kreacher had learned to stay as far away from the scene of the crime, so to speak, as possible. No one wanted him to overhear Sirius and Remus crying out as they made love, least of all the house elf.

Well, perhaps Sirius didn’t mind. He was particularly vindictive when it came to Kreacher.

“Sirius?” Remus called before turning the doorknob. He used to knock before realizing how moot a point that was. What was the worst that could happen? He would find Sirius changing? Or maybe he would find him sobbing. In either case Remus would want to be step inside and reach for him although for entirely different reasons.

“Mmm.” Came Sirius’s response from inside.

The door opened and Remus found Sirius sitting on his bed, a photo album in front of him. The photo album that Remus had brought but rarely taken out before. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, ever since their conversation with Harry over the floo they had both been nostalgic.

Remus took a seat next to Sirius and stared at the album. On this page a few pictures were missing. Some he’d given to Hagrid to put together a new album for Harry. Others he’d taken away fourteen years ago only to place in the back of the album later after he learned the truth about Sirius’s innocence. Well, those that still remained of the pictures. In his grief he had burned some but even that would not take abate his agony and so he’d given up on it. He was grateful that he had and more grateful still that most of the rare photographs of the two of them had survived the purge. Most, but not all.

Sirius hadn’t gotten to that collection, though. Right now he was flipping through the pictures of the four of them at school. The only pictures of Sirius were of him with the rest of the four Marauders and while Remus was sure that hadn’t escaped him he didn’t comment on the fact.

“I forgot so much about him.” Sirius said softly, his eyes drawn to a photograph of their dead friend, riding a broomstick, his messy hair flying all about him as he swerved and then waved at them.

“Little things.” Sirius continued. “But I wonder how much more…”

Remus sighed and leaned into Sirius, resting his chin on the other man’s shoulder. “You remember what’s important. We both do.”

“It’s still not the same.” Sirius said softly, heaving a sigh. “I miss him.”

“So do I.”

Sirius closed the album. As he did so a picture fell out from the back, landing face down on the mattress in front of Sirius. He flipped the photograph onto the other side and his hand froze in the air, clutching it tightly.

In the photograph Sirius and Remus were positioned much as they were now except it was Sirius with his head on Remus’s shoulder. They were both smiling softly at the camera. Remus was blushing faintly and he blushed even harder when Sirius turned and whispered something into his ear. Fighting back a laugh, Remus looked at his love and kissed him deeply.

“Were we happy?” Sirius spoke and the question, asked so plaintively, cut a new hole in Remus’s heart.

“Yes.” Remus replied and he reached up and smoothed Sirius’s hair. “I was very happy.” The happiest he had ever been, if he cared to admit it.

“Before I ruined it.” Sirius said bitterly, never taking his eyes off the picture. They were still kissing in the photograph and Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus, who then proceeded to shove him away and cast an apologetic look at the two of them in real life.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Sirius.” Remus fought back a sigh. It didn’t matter how often they went over this. It never seemed to sink in that Sirius was not to blame for what happened. If anyone other than Peter was to blame then they were both at fault, equally so and thus both equally forgiven. But Sirius never saw it that way.

“It was a war.” Remus said quietly.

“We’re in a war now.” Sirius’s hand shook and he slid the photograph back in the album.

“It will be different this time.” Remus promised. He felt a slight pang of guilt at the words. He knew that there was no way he could promise such a thing. He knew he was stooping to Sirius’s level even saying the words. After all, breaking promises was Sirius’s forte. But somehow it was different. When Sirius said it Remus expected him not to keep his promise. When Remus said something he always did his best to speak the truth, even if he had to stretch it some.

After the number of times Sirius had reassured him, Remus didn’t expect Sirius to call him out on the promise.

“Will it?” Sirius asked before slipping away from Remus’s arms and walking to the door.

Remus lingered for a moment longer. He waited until Sirius was gone before murmuring. “I hope so.”

He took out the discarded picture again. In the darkness, the photographic Sirius and Remus had assumed they were safe and were snogging the life out of each other. They continued like that for some time until finally they realized they were being stared at. Remus jumped. Sirius simply turned, gave the real Remus a sly smile, and winked.

Remus delicately returned the picture to its previous place and left his and his lover’s younger selves to their debauchery. He went to find Sirius.

Lunch was a quiet affair that day. It was also the last they shared.


	8. Chapter 8

Remus knew he shouldn’t be here for a multitude of reasons. Sirius had just died. The pain was too near, threatening to block out everything else. The wards around the house could now be set against Remus. Bellatrix Lestrange could waltz in at any moment and claim the house for her own. So much could happen but Remus couldn’t stay away. There were practical concerns to worry about. All his things were at Grimmauld Place, his clothes, letters, the photo album they’d looked over the last time Remus had been in the house… everything he had left in his life. And Sirius had been there.

His heart clenched as he walked past Kreacher, howling with laughter only to break off and yell that a half breed had no such place in the house of his mistress. And this time he was right. Remus had no place here. Because Sirius was gone. Sirius…

The memories came over him like a knife ripping through his defenses. They’d made love there, at the base of the stairs. And in the kitchen, the study, and, Remus couldn’t help but recall as he reached for the door to Sirius’s room, there on the bed.

Everything seemed to taunt him. The clothes cast haphazardly on the bed, because Sirius never cleaned up after himself. The picture on the wall of the four Marauders, happy and young, never knowing what would happen to them in a few short years. Remus buried his emotions as he took out his battered suitcase and flicked his wand toward the clothes in the closet, packing all of his. Then he went to find his letters but his eyes stole up toward the picture. The image of himself and of James, Peter, and Sirius stared back at him, grinning at him and suddenly Remus felt weak. He turned around and looked at the bed. The emotions he buried so deeply came rising up and he fell to his knees. He grasped his face in his hand and breathed deeply. No tears. No. He wouldn’t cry. But they came anyway, stinging in his eyes, spilling down his face. A sob welled up in Remus’s throat and it soon found release.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, pathetically curled up on himself, weeping. But he knew that if the Death Eaters stormed the house and slew him where he was then he wouldn’t care. At least then he would be with Sirius. Then this nightmare he called a life would be over. Instead it stretched on before him, endlessly. Sirius had walked with him for a short time, been ripped away from him so many times over, first when he was taken by the Ministry, then at the Shrieking Shack, and now he was taken one last time by the Veil, from which there would be no return. No more chances.

He picked himself up in the end. He always did. Standing, clearing the tears from his face with his hand, he finished packing. He took a few of Sirius’s clothes so he could cling to the scent for a little while longer until that too faded. The last to be packed was the photo album, still out even days after their brief conversation. Even though he thought better of it, even though he knew it was a mistake, Remus took out the picture they’d looked at.

There they were, tenderly kissing each other despite what fate had in store for them. Despite the fact that Sirius was dead and Remus alone again. Perhaps he was always meant to be alone. But at least in the photograph…

“At least here we have forever.”


End file.
